like reaching out for something and only grabbing air
by bobtheacorn
Summary: He doesn't want to break whatever this is, don't want to ruin it. / quieter moments between Kacchan and Deku
1. a nervous flutter in his ribs

-x-

like reaching out for something and only grabbing air  
 _a nervous flutter in his ribs_

-x-

Class 1-A's first trip off campus was - to be kind - an _experience_.

So it's fair to say that there's more than a little trepidation in the air when Aizawa-sensei mentions they're taking another trip (for purely educational purposes, nothing quite so hands on) and directs them out of the classroom first thing in the morning. He says, through the mask of gradually-thinning bandages, in that same bored tone that's equally ominous, "No gear this time. Hopefully you won't be needing it." There are a few anxious chuckles to lighten the mood, but nobody really moves.

Not until Kacchan throws his chair back and gets to his feet.

The rest of them dredge up their courage, then.

They hurriedly get their stuff together, chatting excitedly to cover up any initial hesitation. Izuku even turns to share a smile with Uraraka as their Class President rushes to the front of the room to direct his fellow classmates.

This time Iida has the forethought to climb aboard the bus and confirm the seating arrangement before he commands everyone to line up according to their class number. There's some sighing and shuffling around, but everyone obliges without too much fuss or whistle-blowing. Izuku doesn't genuinely become aware of who he's going to be sitting besideuntil he's walking down the center aisle and staring at the back of Kacchan's head, the bus swaying beneath the movement of everyone's feet.

Even then, it doesn't hit him full on until Kacchan swings himself down into the next vacant seat and puts himself wordlessly against the window. He slumps deep into the seat, spreading his knees and folding his arms as he turns his face toward the glass.

Izuku jolts to a stop in the aisle, a nervous flutter in his ribs.

Kacchan had seemed a lot less angry with him, like things were slowly getting better - until they both got accepted into U.A. Until their first training exercise. And then it seems like they took five or six big leaps backwards. Izuku told himself he wasn't going to be afraid of Kacchan anymore, that there is no reason to be, but his flight over fight instinct when it comes to Kacchan is a pretty difficult thing to shake, and now...

Behind him, Mineta ribs him with a fist.

"C'mon, you're gonna make him squawk at us," he mutters, just as Iida bellows out from the front of the bus, gesturing firmly with his hand, _"You're holding us up, Midoriya!"_

"Ah! Sorry…!"

What other option does he have?

Izuku turns and drops down into the seat, sitting rigidly on the edge, knuckles white as he grips the bottom of it.

His heart is beating in his ears for a few long seconds. His close proximity alone is often enough to set Kacchan off when little else will, and Izuku doesn't want to be in close quarters with him if all he's going to do is raise hell about it. Maybe Aizawa-sensei will move him... But no outburst from Kacchan comes, and the bus begins to move. And once Aizawa-sensei tells them to keep it down before disappearing into his sleeping bag, spread out in the front seat, the conversations start revving up around them.

Carefully, Izuku risks a glance at Kacchan.

He expects to get snapped at for this, _"Don't fucking look at me, nerd,"_ but that doesn't happen, either.

Kacchan is staring out the window, eyes unfocused, lost in thought. It's the calmest Izuku recalls seeing him in a while. There's no tension in his body at all - Izuku is holding onto enough for the both of them, but inevitably relaxes. He stays perched on the edge of the seat, just in case, before he turns his attention to Yaoyorozu when she says something to him to avoid having to talk to Mineta.

The feeling is pretty surreal, actually.

Izuku remembers taking bus trips in elementary and middle school; sitting at the very back, being picked on, or in the front seat with the teacher to avoid that. He remembers, once, being grabbed by the ankle and pulled down into the floor by a bigger classmate, and not being allowed to come out from under the seat until they got to their destination. He remembers the sticky floor, and crying quietly behind his hands as he stared up at the thin fabric tearing away from the underside of the seat above him.

Kacchan never did anything like that.

Not to say that Kacchan didn't do a lot of terrible things to him...

He was always quick to take the initiative, but as far as his bullying went, he never really did anything unless he was provoked first - if you stood up to him, or disagreed with him. So Izuku eventually learned to not provoke him, to try his best to placate him in moments of anger, and to generally stay out of his way. He became too shy to raise his hand in class; too shy to speak loudly or draw attention to himself; too shy to voice his opinions; too shy to make friends that wouldn't have him, anyway, because he was weak, and quirkless, and strange.

He retreated into his hero notebooks, with only his hope and his quiet determination for company.

But at U.A. something is decidedly flipped.

It's only just now, in this moment, that Izuku really notices it.

He's the one craning out of his seat to talk to his classmates, the one actively engaged and, for the most part, accepted. Kacchan's eyes are focused out the window the whole time and he doesn't really make an effort to speak to anyone, the others carrying on around him. He doesn't command the same respect - the same fear - in this class that he has in others. Izuku is, honestly, a bit mystified. He glances at Kacchan a couple of times, starts to say something to maybe draw him out, but doesn't.

He doesn't want to break whatever this is, doesn't want to ruin it.

Of course, Class 1-A is full of boisterous kids.

If they're confined with each other, they're going to get out of hand. When the rowdiness reaches maximum pitch, students jostling back and forth and raising their voices, passing items between them, music blasting from five separate phones, Aizawa-sensei reigns in the chaos with ease. He sits up to frown at them over the back of the seat, sleeping bag zipped up to his neck. A wayward paper wad smacks him in the face, but he doesn't seem to care even though half his students wince and put their hands in the air and belt out apologies.

"Calm down and stay in your seats," he says tiredly, "Midoriya - out of the aisle."

The students quiet at once, _"Yes, sensei!"_

Izuku jolts at being called out directly, pitches his voice sharply in answer so Aizawa-sensei will hear it above the rest. He had been craning around the seat in front of him trying to hear what Uraraka was saying to him, trying to see what she has in her hands. Moving fully back into the seat as the rest of his class does the same, his thigh accidentally bumps Kacchan's knee firmly enough to move it.

A tremor of surprise bolts through his chest at the contact.

Izuku stiffens and looks at Kacchan, poised to roll right back out of the seat if he has to escape. But Kacchan barely reacts at all. His eyes narrow a fraction, that faint wrinkle forming under his eye, across the bridge of his nose - as if he starts to snarl, but doesn't quite make it there. If Izuku hadn't subconsciously trained himself to notice such a nuanced shift in expression, he may have missed it altogether. Kacchan doesn't bark at Izuku to get away from him. He doesn't start yelling, or shove Izuku out of the seat.

But he also doesn't move his knee away, relinquishing any space.

Izuku holds his breath for two whole minutes before he slowly lets it out.

"Deku!"

He jumps, lifting his head. The soft call comes from Uraraka, three rows ahead of him. She's peeking over the back of the seat, an origami fortune teller in her hands, lifted above her head. Everyone else has quieted down a bit from Aizawa-sensei's reprimand, and he can hear her clearly when she says impatiently, beaming, "Pick a number already!"

Tentatively, Izuku smiles, putting his hand, two fingers, into the air.

-x-

-BobTAC


	2. bruised against the city lights

-x-

like reaching out for something and only grabbing air  
 _bruised against the city lights_

-x-

There's too much on his mind to sleep, but eventually Izuku has to relent.

It's inching toward 12 o'clock and he'll regret staying up when he has to crawl out of bed at 6 am to catch the train for school. He tries to wind down for a few minutes, sitting up in bed; he organizes his notebook, scrolls through the news feed to see if there was any Hero activity. It helps a little that it's quiet tonight. But once he finally lays down and pulls the blanket up to his chin, memories from the past week start piling together.

 _Stain. Iida. Being grabbed by that Noumu. (That scared, hollow feeling plummeting into the bottom of his chest.) Everything All Might told him about One For All, and All For One._

Izuku breathes out slowly, turning onto his back.

 _And on top of all that,_ he thinks, eyes tracing a familiar pattern across the ceiling, _the end of term exams are coming up..._

He lays there a few minutes longer, thoughts jumbled, a little frustrated that he can't easily put them aside, and then he surges upright, throwing back the blanket. He trades out his pajamas for the nearest pair of shorts, stumbling into them, decided.

He has to do something to clear his head.

Pocketing his phone, Izuku crosses the hall, pushing open his mother's bedroom door. He doesn't want to wake her, but he can't go out without telling her; if she gets up for something and finds his bed empty in the middle of the night she'll just worry, and he puts her through enough as it is breaking his limbs all the time. Izuku places one knee on the edge of the bed, gently shaking her shoulder. When she wakes up enough to murmur his name and rub her eyes a bit, he tells her that he's going for a run.

"I won't be gone long, I promise."

"Ohh, Izuku… keep your phone with you," she says groggily from behind her hand, "And if a police officer brings you home for being out so late, I'm going to be very upset."

Izuku laughs softly, "I'll stay close by."

He curls over the top of her for a second, squeezing her into a tight hug with his whole body. It makes her laugh softly, patting his arm. Izuku kisses the side of her face before he gets up and leaves.

-x-

The humidity is unforgiving tonight. It isn't _hot_ , exactly, but Izuku can feel the moisture on his skin and the pressure building in the air as soon as he steps outside. In the distance, he hears a long, low peal of thunder coming over the mountains. A storm is building and the sky looks bruised against the city lights, swells of orange and dark purple bleeding into one another.

 _Well, I might have time for a jog…_ he thinks optimistically.

The wind gusts through every now and then bringing in the sudden warm front, so strong it lifts his hair and clothes. Determined, now that he's out here, to get what bit of exercise he can before the bottom falls out, Izuku stretches first on the sidewalk in front of his apartment building. The air's so thick, even just taking a few minutes to do that has him beading sweat.

 _Guess_ _I'm taking a shower when I get back,_ he thinks absently, leaping into a light jog. _I'll give myself five minutes like this, and then… one second in Full Cowl._

He goes like that for twenty-five minutes, keeping track with his phone. Focusing on the warmth and energy rushing through his body makes it easy to forget everything else. This is what he needs. Practice, precision. _Experience._ So it comes as naturally as breathing.

That's the one thing everyone else has that he's missing.

Before Izuku knows it, he's gone through the neighborhood twice, darting around the sharp corners, careful not to bust the concrete under his feet when he uses One For All. He jogs to a stop a few blocks from home, within sight of his apartment complex, but surrounded by nicer houses and a few trees peeking over high privacy walls. He takes a few minutes to catch his breath, bent with his hands resting on his knees. His hair is soaked at the roots, sweat pouring down his face.

"The fuck are you doing out here in the middle of the goddamn night?"

Izuku nearly leaps out of his skin, yelps, _"Kacchan!"_

He bolts upright, spins to survey the street. But it's empty, except for himself, no matter which way his turns to look. He feels cold all of a sudden, his heart shuddering from the scare, so he puts his hand against his chest, mutters faintly, "...What?"

He knows what he heard; that low, bored growl is absolutely unmistakable.

"Up here, Deku. Holy fuck."

Oh. Of course, the wall.

Izuku lifts his eyes, a little embarrassed. Kacchan is sitting at the top of the wall almost directly above him, one knee pulled up against his chest, an arm draped over it. He looks a lot more annoyed than he might have if Izuku had noticed him a moment sooner.

"Kacchan," Izuku says again, backpedaling out of habit to put some distance between them, "Wh-what're you doing here?"

"I was enjoying the view until a fucking second ago," Kacchan says flatly, "And I fucking live here."

Izuku glances past him, sees the tree swaying in a sudden burst of warm wind and the two-story house behind it. Of course, it looks different from the back, but it's Kacchan's alright. Izuku really hadn't been paying attention to where he was going or he probably wouldn't have come this way at all. He usually avoids Kacchan's entire street out of deep-rooted self-preservation…

"You didn't answer my fucking question."

Izuku jolts at the reminder. He doesn't have to explain himself - least of all to Kacchan - but the words tumble out before he can rationally process this and his hands flutter.

"I - I was just running -" Izuku stammers too loudly, face burning red as he tries to grasp what he wants to say quickly, "What - what I mean is, I thought I'd go for a run, even though it's late! There's been a lot on my mind lately and I couldn't sleep and I thought since I was going to be up, anyway, I didn't want to be laying in bed tossing and turning all night and that the exercise might help me be able to think a little more clearly and put some things into perspective, so I - "

Kacchan cuts him off, "Christ, shut the fuck up," and Izuku claps a hand over his mouth. Kacchan huffs out a breath, looking annoyed the same way a cat looks when it's soaked - like the weight of it is exhausting. "I wasn't that damn curious."

Kacchan doesn't say anything else.

Izuku doesn't realize he's holding his breath until he finally lets it out.

 _He's not -_ _ **angry**_ _._

Izuku tentatively lowers his hand from his mouth, looks at Kacchan a bit more carefully as this dawns on him. He _doesn't_ look angry. He's just watching Izuku stand there; eyes narrowed, brow knotted, like he can't figure something out. That's the most neutral expression he has in his arsenal and, while plenty intimidating, it's… it's softer somehow. It makes Izuku wonder why _he's_ outside so late, but he doesn't dare ask. Was it really just to watch the storm? Or was he thinking, too?

The hair stands up on the back of Izuku's neck. The longer he stands there nervously looking back at Kacchan, the more he feels like he should probably go.

Like right now, as quickly as he can.

Bumping into Kacchan like this is tantamount to stumbling upon a leopard in the jungle. In the faintly yellow streetlight, Izuku can see the sweat beading on Kacchan's forehead, even though he's doing nothing but sitting there, and his gaze automatically jumps to Kacchan's hands. They're open, loose, palms angled away from his leg. He seems relaxed enough, but Izuku is suddenly on edge, remembering the rescue exercise, and Kacchan's rapidly deteriorating mood in the classroom.

The pressure between them had been building again, and it's ready to break.

It thunders - a hard rumble, heat crashing in the atmosphere - and Izuku flinches.

Whether it's because of his reaction or something else, Kacchan's face suddenly darkens. His fist pulls back and clenches against his knee, a harsh swear coming out under his breath, and Izuku braces himself for _something_ , sudden panic gripping his chest, brain screaming _Why! This always happens!_ Kacchan throws his leg out, rocking forward - but he swings himself around so his back is to Izuku and he drops down from the wall into his own yard, out of sight.

Izuku hears the soft grunt as he lands on the other side, the sound of his bare feet hitting the dirt. The back door sliding open and then slamming closed.

Kacchan is gone.

And Izuku is left standing there, stunned and keyed up for no good reason, his heart beating in his ears, sweat cold at his temples. Lightening spiderwebs across the sky and another roll of thunder shakes his ribcage. It finally starts to rain, a gentle patter on the concrete that turns into a roar.

-x-

-BobTAC


End file.
